Just as a few people in the hotel's presidential suite bathroom were conspiring on how to deal with Song Heping, the waiter who had delivered drinks to them half an hour earlier was now hiding in a small changing room on the sa floor, wearing headphones and holding a miniature recording device, recording the conversation of the people inside.
This waiter was in fact MI6's planted surveillance expert, Carl Ryan—placing the transmitter near the ventilation opening.
The hotel central air conditioning system would carry the signal to a mobile receiving station set up in the parking lot three hundred ters away, and from there relay it to Weber who was waiting for news in Khartoum.
When the conversation in the presidential suite ended, he took off his headphones, put away the recording equipnt and carefully concealed it, then reopened the door and stood in front of the mirror.
In the mirror, he saw fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
Monitoring a target of the "Shepherd" caliber was like dancing on the tip of a knife; any slight misstep could lead to destruction.
Pence and the others inside the room were completely unaware.
Actually, MI16 had long been targeting the "Shepherd".
In Africa, everyone who serves Aricans and the United States intelligence agencies is, in fact, under MI6's surveillance.
This way of guarding against allies is a familiar practice regardless of Britain, Arica, or France.
The next day, Atlon Oasis.
Song Heping projected satellite images onto the sand table, the red dot of the laser pen stopping at a pass on the Erdi Plateau.
"They will take this route."
He had already reviewed all the intelligence provided by Weber.
Now, he held the initiative.
Pence and the other's every move was transparent before him.
It's been a long ti since he had such a seamless job.
Having the support of a major intelligence agency certainly felt different.
It seems that cooperation with the British is indeed necessary.
"The escort is a strategic squad from EO Company, standard marching formation, the lead vehicle equipped with a .50 heavy machine gun, spaced fifteen ters apart."
Henry handed over a decrypted docunt: "MI6 just forwarded the Brody Squad equipnt list. Two 'Black Bee' nano drones and four AT-4 anti-tank rocket launchers added..."
Saying this, he couldn't help but shake his head.
"It's all top-notch gear."
The tent was filled with the sll of coffee and gunpowder mixed together.
The core team mbers of the "Musician" defense surrounded the sand table, with a detailed terrain map of Northern Darfur hanging on the wooden board in front, different colored pins marking the control areas of ard forces.
"The ambush window is only four minutes."
Song Heping pointed at the sand table with the tip of the Mad Dog Tactical Knife.
"From the lead vehicle hitting the mine to eliminating the rear vehicle, it must be controlled within 240 seconds."
Saying this, he picked up a pencil and drew a fire distribution map on the simulation board, each symbol precise to the shooting angle.
"Understand? Bring along the two South Arican special operations platoons from our camp at that ti, they've been idle in the camp, it's ti for them to stretch their legs."
Before he could finish speaking, the satellite phone started vibrating.
"'Shepherd's' convoy is leaving the downtown of N'Djana, moving northeast. According to the speed calculation, it will arrive at Erdi Plateau in 20 hours."
Weber's voice ca over the phone.
"Understood."
"Good luck."
"Leave it to , oh right, keep an eye on Pence's side, I will personally visit him after this is done."
"No problem, every move he makes is under our surveillance."
"OK."
The call ended.
Song Heping clapped his hands and pointed at the map: "You all see the tactical arrangent clearly, right?! The target has already left Chad."
"Group A is responsible for the rear vehicle, Group B suppresses the middle firepower."
Song Heping's voice was crisp and clear.
"Rember, I want 'Shepherd' alive, after capturing him, hand him over to Klein."
"Heh heh."
Klein let out a dry laugh.
This guy was checking his interrogation toolkit: adrenaline auto-injectors, nerve conduction instrunts, a box of ampoules with truth serum of varying concentrations...
After finishing the check, he lifted his head with a shark-like smile: "Guaranteed to make him spill everything."
Nightti, ten o'clock, Erdi Plateau, southeast side of the ambush circle
Hunter lay under the camouflage net, his AWM sniper rifle mounted in a natural rock crevice. The gun barrel was wrapped in desert-colored fabric, and even the scope was covered with anti-reflective tape.
Thermal imaging showed the convoy three kiloters away kicking up clouds of dust.
"Tango-1, distance 2780, speed 60." Ghost's breathing was as steady as sleep, "Lead vehicle machine gunner is dozing."
Song Heping's command ca through the headset: "Wait for the rear vehicle to pass the second marking point."
Hunter's crosshair was constantly locked on the lead vehicle driver's temple.
Beside him, Klein, serving as the observer, was calculating the wind speed—the plateau crosswind could reach level 8, enough to deflect a bullet off its trajectory by half a ter.
"IED in position."
Collins' voice sounded in the channel.
The entire ambush circle began to operate like a precision clock.
Behind the eastern rock wall were two anti-armor teams in ambush, their "Javelin" missiles already preheated; on the western sand dunes, the machine gunner checked the M240B's ammo belt for the third ti; and Song Heping personally led the assault team, concealed on the reverse slope of the pass's twist.
In this collaboration, Song Heping did not shortchange MI6, from Weber he procured a batch of military supplies, all NATO-standard good equipnt.
The British were indeed willing to spend to get things done.
Weber had the weapons and ammunition needed for the operation delivered to Atlon Oasis the next day.
"Target entered the kill zone."
As the first ard pickup truck rolled over a special marking on the ground, Hunter pulled the trigger. 0.338 Lapua Magnum bullet flew for 2.3 seconds, then the rear of the lead vehicle driver's head erupted into a pink mist.
Almost simultaneously, the IED buried under the road surface was remotely detonated, turning the rear vehicle into burning scrap tal.
"Fire!"
The entire pass was instantly filled with gunfire.
The second vehicle attempted to turn but was directly hit by the "Javelin" missile atop the vehicle.
Blazing tal jet pierced the armor, vaporizing the four EO team mbers inside into char.
The heavy machine gunner in the third vehicle was just repositioning the weapon, hadn't even pulled the trigger yet when Hunter's second bullet shattered his skull.
"Move! Move!"
Brody's shouting fragnted on the radio.
His one eye appeared particularly vicious in the firelight, G36C rifle blindly firing at the surroundings.
"There's a sniper in the southeast—"
Before finishing his sentence, a .338 armor-piercing round passed through the car door, bisecting him.
Brody's upper half fell onto the scorching sand, intestines hung like bizarre decorations on the charred car fra.
"Gasp—"
Blood continuously flowed from his mouth, but he wasn't completely dead yet.
The sound of gunfire was incessant.
Bullets pinged against the car.
Ambushed.
His whereabouts were leaked.
A traitor...
He was full of resentnt.
This damn...
Perished before setting off his career.
Just crossing the border, already...
Must be Song Heping...
He thought of that Chinese.
A trace of regret flashed through his mind.
FUCK!
This five million, really can't earn...
The gunfire suddenly stopped...
Brody struggled with the last of his strength to push open the car door.
The last scene he saw was—a man of Asian descent wearing desert goggles walking towards the "Shepherd's" armored vehicle.
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